


'The Correct Rules of Gobstones'

by Evie_adams273



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Astoria comes to save us all, Bullying, Flashback, Gen, Gobstones, Hide and Seek, Imaginary Friends, Present Tense, Scorpius Malfoy told a lie, alternative to the truth, deux ex machina, if you know you know, inspired by a spoon, park, scorpius is a child, short sad idea, the trees - Freeform, very sorry for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:15:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22769935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evie_adams273/pseuds/Evie_adams273
Summary: Scorpius tells Delphi that he had an argument with Hector and that's why they stopped talking. But, in honesty, the truth is something quieter and darker that he prefers not to think about.
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass & Scorpius Malfoy
Kudos: 8





	'The Correct Rules of Gobstones'

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warning: bit of bullying and some emotional abuse

_“I had one of those too! Hector._

_Until we fell out. Over the correct rules for Gobstones.”_

_Scorpius is very aware that it’s a lie. But he’s spent too long blocking out the truth that he doesn’t really care anymore. It’s an easy lie. A believable one._

* * *

Scorpius opens the gate of the park, making sure it’s properly closed behind him before he runs off into the field. He doesn’t head towards the playground. He doesn’t really like the playground very much. He’s been a few times, and he normally ends up on his own. Other children don’t really like the look of him.

He can sort of understand. He looks different. People have asked him if his hair is dyed before, and when he says it isn’t, some of them realise who he is, and they always back away. He’s at the park without his parents today. He doesn’t feel brave to go into the playground.

He doesn’t mind, though. There’s a group of trees near the bottom of the field that he likes to play in. And Hector is with him. Hector likes playing with him. Hector doesn’t ever tell him to stop talking, as the few children who have previously tolerated him do.

Scorpius knows he rambles when he’s excited. Or nervous. Which he normally is if other people talk to him. He wishes he wasn’t. It feels stupid a lot of the time. Everyone else he sees seems to have friends and someone to play with. And yet he still can’t make friends. Because he’s irritating.

But Hector doesn’t mind. So he’s still friends with Hector. It doesn’t matter that he made Hector up when he was five. Hector is still friends with him nearly five years later.

Scorpius sits down at the foot of one of the trees, drawing his knees up to his chest and staring up at the sky. It’s bright and clear and it feels happy.

He looks down as Hector taps on his shoulder, whispering something about wanting to play hide and seek. Scorpius likes hide and seek. He plays with his mum sometimes. When she’s feeling okay. He nods to Hector, closing his eyes while he waits for Hector to hide in the roots of one of the trees. He always hides in there.

Scorpius counts to twenty, and then he stands up, starting to look around. He dodges around the trunks of the biggest trees, tripping and giggling as he stumbles over the roots.

He finds Hector in the second place he looks – tucked underneath the roots in the one space large enough for either of them to fit. When Scorpius hides first, or when he plays with his mum, he always hides there. Which is probably why Hector hides there too. He doesn’t really mind. It’s sort of funny.

He runs off to hide as soon as Hector starts to count. He’s going to his second-favourite spot to hide and he knows Hector will find him almost immediately, but that doesn’t actually matter.

He closes his eyes, trying not to giggle. He doesn’t want to give away where he’s hiding, but it’s hard not to laugh. Hiding from Hector is funny, for some reason.

And so, they keep playing. Back and forth and back and forth. Until Scorpius thinks it’s been long enough to start reusing hiding places (they’re still playing in the trees and he doesn’t want to climb one today). He climbs into the root space, the first place that Hector hid, and closes his eyes again.

Hector’s getting quicker at finding him but Scorpius doesn’t mind. They’ve been playing for nearly an hour now (it feels that long so he’ll have to go home soon), but even that isn’t the point. The point is that it’s fun and familiar and it’s something to do. Scorpius doesn’t want it to change. Why would he?

A second or so later, he hears voices for the first time since he entered the park. He opens his eyes to see two boys, probably about fifteen, standing in front of him, both smirking. Scorpius scrambles out of the hole, dusting himself off and starting to walk away.

“Hey, you,” one of the boys catches him, “you crazy or something?”

“No,” Scorpius shakes his head. “I was just playing with my imaginary friend.”

“Who the fuck still has an imaginary friend when you’re a teenager?”

“I’m not a teenager. I’m – I’m not even ten yet. I’m just tall for my age.”

“You really are. Freak.”

Scorpius flinches slightly at that word. He hasn’t been called it many times, but he has been called it. And every time that someone says it to him, he just wants to cry. But he can’t cry here. He normally feels safe to cry outside in the open. Hector’s normally there for him. But right now, he’s alone. He doesn’t know where Hector has gone.

“You know what?” the other boy looks at his friend. “I think we should educate our young friend about the ways of this oh-so-cruel world.”

Scorpius starts to back away, trying to work out where the closest exit is. If he runs, he might make it with enough speed to get somewhere safe. He doesn’t really understand what they’re actually threatening, but he doesn’t want to find out. He just wants to go home and crawl under his duvet with a book. Books are safer. If a book starts to hurt, you’re allowed to just close it and come back later when it won’t hurt as much.

“What’s your name, freak?” one of the boys steps closer.

“I’m not telling you,” Scorpius takes another step back. “Leave me alone. I just want to go home.”

“Oh. Oh. Did you hear that? Baby here wants to go home.”

Scorpius takes another step back. And then he bolts, sprinting up the park as fast as he can physically move. But they follow him, laughing as he starts to tire and slow. He might be tall for his age, but they’re still bigger than him, faster than him, stronger than him.

All it takes is one swipe at his hood and they force him to a halt. He stumbles, closing his eyes instinctually. They laugh, shoving him so that he falls and lands on the damp ground. It was dry under the trees. The dust could be wiped off. Now his trousers are actually muddy. Scorpius doesn’t know why he’s concentrating on that.

He starts to stand up, but one of them trips him, continuing to laugh.

“I don’t think you are nine,” he jeers. “Nah. No way. You are a teenager; you’re just crazy. Completely out of your fucking mind.”

“I’m not–”

“Aren’t you? Normal people don’t talk to people in their heads. That’s called being mad. You’re a mad fucking freak.”

Scorpius starts to raise his hands above his head, trying not to cry. He just wants to go home. He just wants to go home. He just wants to go–

He opens his eyes as he hears a shout to see his mum practically running down the park towards him. The teenagers stop moving towards him. Now they’re backing away. Scorpius scrambles to his feet, and he wants to run, but his legs feel like liquid.

“God,” one of the boys mutters, “is she related to you? She looks about as crazy as you.”

Scorpius doesn’t have the chance to respond as his mum reaches them, wrapping her arms around him tightly. She’s saying something to the boys, but Scorpius doesn’t know what. He doesn’t need to know what. He’s safe now. He can go home now.

Once he realises the boys are gone, his mum hugs him again, holding onto him tightly. Scorpius feels the tears running down his cheeks but he doesn’t try and stop them. He knows stopping them won’t work. If he’s safe, there’s no way to stop his emotions.

“Are you okay?” his mum looks at him, wiping away his tears.

“I want to go home.”

“Okay. Home. It’s all right. You’re going to be all right.”

As they walk home, Scorpius starts to think. He starts think about what they said. Maybe it is weird for him to have an imaginary friend. Maybe it isn’t normal.

Is that what people will think of him? Is that what they will actually say when he goes to Hogwarts? Is that what normal people do?

Scorpius knows he shouldn’t care. Scorpius knows that he should just think about the friendships he has before the friendships he might make. But he knows, deep down, that he invented Hector. Maybe letting go would be best.

Letting go might make him less of a freak.

**Author's Note:**

> So I think I came up with this yesterday while I was cleaning my room. it was sad. So I wrote it.  
> Fun fact - the trees used in the aesthetic on my twitter are in a local park and they're the inspiration used for the trees in the fic.   
> Thanks for reading.  
> Kudos and comments appreciated  
> Twitter: @evie_adams273


End file.
